


Dancing in the Streets

by Caius



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, New York City, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/pseuds/Caius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Same-sex marriage is finally legal in New York! Raoul and Tracks celebrate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in the Streets

**Author's Note:**

> There's a big [comment fic meme](http://bree-black.livejournal.com/84411.html) in honor of the New York same-sex marriage bill. It occurred to me that there were at least two characters in my fandom who might care in more than an abstract sense! And I didn't feel up to navigating a multi-page multi-fandom comment fic meme, so I just wrote it and posted it.

It'd been a damn long time since Raoul had danced in the streets, but, hey! He wasn't gonna pass up a good chance!

Even if his back wasn't quite what it was used to. Ouch! He was gonna regret it in the morning, but it's not every day gay marriage gets passed in New York! Raoul spun around on one hand, maybe not quite as good as 25 years ago, but pretty damn good, and--whoa! That was a very familiar shade of blue!

"Hey! It's my main machine!"

Tracks drove slowly through the crowd, preening at the catcalls and enduring the touches to his paint. "Is that _you_ , Raoul?"

"Who else?" Raoul flipped up over the crowd, surfing it for a moment and landing not-quite-perfectly on Tracks' hood. Ouch.

"Stop scratching the finish and get in." There was an edge of anxiety to Tracks' tone, but neither of them was going to mention that Raoul wasn't as young as he used to be. Certainly not Tracks.

"Whoa, what's the urgency? You've got a whole month to get me to the altar...!" Raoul teased and vaulted into Tracks' passenger seat.

Tracks' engine went silent for a second. Shit, Tracks didn't really wanna...? The door slid closed and the moment seemed to be over. Certainly there was no time for any intimate revelations as Tracks tried to argue them enough room to take off.

Both of them got into yelling good-natured insults and congratulations and fending off hitchhikers; finally Tracks _did_ yell, "We're late for the wedding!"

"You've had seven years, Masshole!" someone yelled back, but they got the space they needed and Raoul laughed and lost himself for a moment or two in the sheer joy of flying with Tracks. It was like being sixteen again.

Then Raoul stopped, and there was an awkward silence. "Great day, isn't it?" he said. "I wonder if Poplock's proposed yet."

"Who would _ever_ marry someone named Poplock?" Tracks said, almost indifferently.

Raoul shrugged. Poplock's boyfriend called him Paul, but what was the fun in that? "Sounds like one of _your_ names. Who'd marry someone named 'Tracks'?"

"We don't _do_ that, Raoul." Tracks banked and looped around some high-rise apartments. No one actually noticed, but he liked to pretend they did. "And even if we did, it's not like we're bound by New York state law."

"Obviously not. Your license and registration is way out of date." Raoul stroked the dashboard; Tracks' engine purred. "Will you marry me?" It wasn't a joke. But he would pretend it was, if he had to.

"Not in _that_ jacket I won't." Tracks said.

"Dummy." Raoul slapped him lightly. "I'm not going to wear this thing to my wedding! Not gonna wear a white dress, either, though."

"You'd look dreadful in a white dress. Maybe a nice red and blue..."

"There are more colors out there than red and blue, you know! We should have _you_ painted for the occasion. Maybe a nice orange..."

"Orange?!" Tracks stopped midair and dropped them several yards in his outrage.

Raoul laughed. "I love you too, Tracks."

Tracks' engine growled in a playful threat. " _I_ will obtain for you an acceptable tuxedo, Raoul."


End file.
